


Severed Souls - First Three Chapters (for now)

by TheNocturnalHermit



Series: The Spiritbender [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Airbending & Airbenders, Angst, Character Death, Earthbending & Earthbenders, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Firebending & Firebenders, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Other, Romance, Slow Burn, Spiritbending & Spiritbenders, Violence, Waterbending & Waterbenders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 20:01:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17925386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNocturnalHermit/pseuds/TheNocturnalHermit
Summary: Sequel to Fate's Woven TapestrySage has returned to her home world to help rebuild what is left of her people, the Spiritbenders. Little does she know just how bad things have gotten in the years she has been gone. Thanks to Goran’s massacre, the Spiritbenders are few and far between, and they now face the threat of complete annihilation from the Outlanders. Sage must now take up the mantle of leader in the fight for their survival, but does she have what it takes to save them all?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS FROM AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER. I OWN ONLY MY OCs. THIS WAS WRITTEN PURELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT.
> 
> Honestly whatever characters appear from ATLA in this fic will just be passing mentions.  
> Now, allow me to just say THIS STORY IS NOT EVEN CLOSE TO BEING DONE. Seriously, I got a long ways to go with it, but I just wanted to put up at least the first three chapters so that 1) people will be able to have a taste of what I'm going for in the sequel and 2) to prove that I have not forgotten or given up on actually writing the sequel. When the time comes that I start posting the full story (hopefully later this year, but no promises), I will edit this author's note, and potentially the original three chapters as well (depending on how things advance in the story). I also may be adding tags as well as changing the rating, again depending on how things advance in the story.
> 
> Now, without further ado, please enjoy the continued adventures (at least the first three chapters of it anyway) of Sage.

Prologue

 

“A very long time ago, our world was a dark and unforgiving place. There was very little food and even less water to be found, and storms raged for days at a time, destroying everything in their path. Life was nearly impossible to sustain. However, against all odds, there were five clans that had managed to survive the onslaught. But even for all their resourcefulness, the world was becoming harsher still, and soon the clans were battling one another, fighting over what little resources there were. They tore each other apart, and very nearly decimated themselves in the process.

           

“Then, suddenly, a figure appeared before the clans. A being capable of taming the very elements themselves, bending the laws of nature as they saw fit. They declared that the five clans could live in harmony, and that they would help them prosper. The being, the very first Spiritbender, then wielded the elements, calming the storms and bringing life to a once desolate world. Five lush regions sprang into existence, a home for each of the clans. The leaders of the five clans soon became known as the Alliance of Monarchs, and they all looked to this benevolent being for guidance.

           

“The Spiritbender vowed to watch over the people and help keep the peace, as would the rest of their kin as they came into existence in the years to come. From then on, the great spirits handpicked each Spiritbender from birth and bestowed upon them the crystals that would grant them unimaginable and set them apart from all others. Each one joined the legacy that followed the first, passing along the wisdoms and the morals that showed them what it meant to be a Spiritbender. And all have lived peacefully for many, many years.”

           

“Again! Tell it again!” a small girl with fiery red hair demanded, bouncing up and down where she sat before the storyteller. They were all currently seated in a comfortable sitting room turned temporary classroom, a warm fire crackling merrily in the fireplace just behind their teacher while on the opposite side of the room was a window, where sunlight shimmered through and added to the pleasant atmosphere. The older woman opened her mouth to reply to the rambunctious child when one of the other children interjected, his blonde locks matching her own.

           

“Sage, we’ve heard that story a _thousand_ times!” he grumbled, crossing his arms petulantly. Then he brightened, looking up at the woman hopefully. “Tell us about the time we kicked the Outlanders’ butts when they tried to invade our kingdom!”

           

The other two children giggled, the third completely ignoring the proceedings and staring off toward the far wall with her knees clutched to her chest. The woman sighed, a small, patient smile on her face.

           

“These stories are meant to teach you youngsters,” she remarked placidly, her cerulean eyes glinting with amusement. “One day you’ll all make the journey to Capital City and become part of the forces that defend not only our kingdom, but the others as well. You would do well to listen closely and learn as much as you can.”

           

“But, mom, we already _know_ about the tale of the origin of Spiritbenders!” the first boy whined. “I want to hear about the battles!”

           

“Dacre, there’s more to being a Spiritbender than fighting all the time,” the woman scolded gently. Her son’s citrine eyes flashed with annoyance and he glared over at the far wall grumpily.

           

“But, where did the first Spiritbender come from?” the other boy inquired, his deep green eyes pondering the older woman seriously. “They had to come from _somewhere_ , right? Did the spirits handpick them? Did they come from a different world? _Were_ they actually a spirit?”

           

“Well, Oren, unfortunately there are many parts of our history that has been lost to time and war,” the woman sighed. “Even despite our collective efforts, the five kingdoms continue to bicker amongst themselves. And then those Outlanders came to our doorsteps, so we have had a difficult time just trying to keep the peace, never mind trying to recoup our history.”

           

Oren frowned, thoroughly put out by not having his questions answered properly. The girl on his other side raised her politely, and Dacre’s mother smiled and nodded for her to speak.

           

“Is it true that the Outlanders are more technologically advanced than we are?” she asked with surprising maturity for an eight-year-old.

           

“They certainly have an array of weapons at their disposal, Toril,” the woman mused. “But we Spiritbenders have something neither they nor any other enemy of ours will ever have.”

           

“What’s that?” Sage asked, her violet eyes wide with curiosity.

           

“The strength of the spirits,” Dacre’s mother grinned, tapping the girl’s nose playfully. The girl wrinkled her nose and giggled while at the same time, a bell chimed in the distance, capturing the group’s attention. Shortly after, the door to the little sitting room opened to reveal a handful of adults filing in. The four children all leapt up to their feet, greeting their families. Only the third girl remained seated, her gaze vacant as her mind was apparently elsewhere.

           

“Adva? C’mon, it’s time to go home,” Oren said kindly, gently tapping the girl on the shoulder. She flinched violently, looking back around at the boy with wide eyes, the blue of her irises so pale they almost passed for white, the effect only magnified by the deep olive tone of her skin. She didn’t say anything, only staring at Oren as if seeing him for the first time.

           

“Why do you waste your time? She’ll figure it out eventually, especially if she’s the last kid in here,” Dacre sniffed.

           

“Don’t be such a jerk, you know how she is!” Sage scolded him with a swift punch to his shoulder.

           

“Sage!”

           

Sage gulped and looked around, unwillingly facing the stern expression of her mother. “Well…he was being mean!” she defended herself indignantly.

           

“And hitting him was supposed to fix that, was it?” Gratia remarked with an eyebrow raised. “Apologize to him. Now.”

           

Sage bit the inside of her cheek and glanced over at Dacre, seeing that he was smirking triumphantly. She growled, but turned to face him nonetheless. “…Sorry…” she grumbled, almost too low for him to hear.

           

“I suppose that’ll do,” Gratia sighed, laying a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “How were they today, Eteri?”

           

“Energetic as ever,” the other woman smiled, standing up as well. “They’ll all make excellent Spiritbenders one day.”

           

“Dad, where did the first Spiritbender come from?” Oren asked his father. “She wouldn’t tell us!”

           

The dark-skinned man raised an eyebrow at that, looking over at Eteri with amusement coloring his plum eyes.

           

“Sorry, Arlo,” Eteri sighed. “I did what I could.”

           

“No worries,” Arlo waved a hand, tousling his son’s inky black hair much to the boy’s chagrin. “Come on, Oren, your mother has supper waiting for us.”

           

“Why won’t anyone answer my questions?!” Oren lamented, stomping away through the door with his father in tow.

           

“Crybaby,” Dacre snickered. Sage glared at him, raising her fist again threateningly. Just as she knew he would, the other boy flinched before he could stop himself. Toril merely rolled her apricot eyes, taking her parents’ hands in each of her own and leading them out of the room.

           

“Where’s Adva’s mother?” Eteri asked, looking out into the hallway curiously.

           

“She’s…occupied at the moment,” Gratia replied hesitantly, looking down at the remaining three children. Eteri followed her gaze and nodded knowingly.

           

“Dacre, be a dear and escort your friends to the front door please?” his mother asked him kindly.

           

“Fine,” Dacre sighed, leading the way out of the room. Sage followed after with Adva shuffling along behind. They made their way through the long hallway outside, passing by the kitchen and the dining room before arriving at the entrance room, which only consisted of a modest coat rack and a few pairs of muddy shoes and boots sitting by the front door.

           

“I guess we’ll just have to wait here,” Sage remarked, leaning against the wall.

           

Dacre grumbled under his breath, dropping to the ground and crossing his legs in a bored manner. Adva alone remained upright, scratching at one of her wrists as was her habit when she was nervous.

           

“Don’t worry, Adva. You’ll be going home soon,” Sage assured her friend with a kind smile. Adva blinked slowly, looking over at the other girl.

           

“…Where’s mom…?” she asked softly.

           

“Not here. Obviously,” Dacre remarked sarcastically. Sage frowned and kicked him, making the boy cry out in irritation.

           

“Why do you always have to be a jerk?” she demanded.

           

“Why do _you_ always have to be a pest?!” he shot back.

           

Adva let out a low whine, rocking back and forth on her heels as the scratching against her wrist intensified.

           

“Great, now she’s probably going to make herself bleed! Yet again!” Dacre shot up to his feet, glaring at Sage.

           

“It’s _your_ fault for being insensitive!” Sage spat heatedly.

           

Just then the front door opened, revealing a young teenager standing in the doorway and looking down at the kids with a raised eyebrow. His rosy eyes glanced from one angered façade to the other before flicking over to Adva, who was still whining softly.

           

“Uh…is mom home?” he asked, directing his question to Dacre.

           

“No, we were left all alone without any parental supervision,” Dacre retorted. Rather than looking annoyed by the boy’s response, the teen snorted in amusement, rolling his eyes and stepping farther into the home, ruffling Dacre’s sandy hair.

           

“I’ve taught you well, brother,” he remarked with a wry grin. Dacre jerked himself away from his elder sibling’s ministrations, fixing his hair, but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

           

“Why isn’t dad with you, Cadoc?” he asked.

           

“He was called to the capital,” Cadoc replied. “General Dante put in a request for his services in defending our southern border.”

           

“Is it the Outlanders?” Sage asked worriedly.

           

“Nah, it didn’t sound like it,” the young teen assured her. “I think it had more to do with a herd of gator oxen.”

           

Sage winced while Dacre grinned, excited by the prospect of large, scaly creatures with powerful maws, sharp horns, and bad tempers roaming through the southern part of the kingdom.

           

“I thought gator oxen stayed closer to the Kingdom of Stars,” Sage mused, crossing her arms. “They’re by the sea. We’re not.”

           

“They have a tendency to migrate,” Cadoc shrugged. “Though they’ve never been known to venture past the Kingdom of Roots.”

           

“I want to see the gator oxen!” Dacre exclaimed, looking up at his brother hopefully.

           

“What’s this about gator oxen?”

           

The trio looked around as Eteri and Gratia came into the room. Gratia laid a gentle hand on Adva’s shoulder, the girl flinching again as if she had been burned.

           

“Ready to go home, dear?” the older woman asked kindly. Adva didn’t look up at her, but she managed a short nod, her wild mane of curly brown hair shielding her face from the group.

           

“Well?” Eteri prompted, looking from one boy to the other.

           

“Apparently, there’s been some reports of gator oxen roaming around near the southern border,” Cadoc explained. “General Dante is already there with part of his squad, but he requested some extra help in herding them back to their own grounds.”

           

“I see,” his mother sighed. “So, your father won’t be back home for some time, then.”

           

“No. He won’t,” her older son nodded, also looking a little forlorn.

           

“As long as they’re all together they’ll be fine,” Gratia said bracingly, laying a soothing hand upon Eteri’s shoulder. “They’re strong Spiritbenders, after all.”

           

“My papa will take care of those gator oxen!” Sage piped up confidently. “He’s the strongest Spiritbender of them all!”

           

“No way, my dad is way better than yours!” Dacre snapped heatedly.

           

“Then why is _my_ papa a general and yours isn’t?” the young Spiritbender grinned wickedly at him. Dacre growled, looking ready to fire back more poisonous words when Gratia stepped in.

           

“Alright that’s enough you two! Sage, Adva, we’re going home.” The older woman grabbed hold of her daughter’s hand and ushered her unceremoniously out of the house, sparing only a moment to nod farewell to Eteri and her children. Adva followed after the pair like a ghost who was unsure of where they were or what they were doing.

           

“He started it, why am _I_ the one being dragged?!” Sage argued, trying to yank her hand out of her mother’s grip.

           

“You goaded him, young lady, by undermining his father’s value to the army,” Gratia replied in a clipped tone. She then sighed, slowing to a stop before looking down at her spirited daughter. “Do you honestly think that titles are all that matter when it comes to one’s strength?”

           

“Well…no. I guess not,” Sage relented, scuffing the toe of her shoe against the ground.

           

“I don’t know what it is with you two, but when you and Dacre are in the same room all you ever seem to do is bicker,” her mother remarked with a tired shake of her head. She then started walking again, this time holding Sage’s hand rather than gripping it. “When your father gets back he’s going to hear about your behavior of late. And he’s not going to be very happy.”

           

“What?! But, mom-!”

           

“You know better than to act in such a boorish manner. And if the only way to get that through your head is to have your father teach you, then so be it.”

           

Sage huffed, breathing out a puff of heated smoke from her nostrils. Gratia glanced down at her sharply, making her duck her head in apology.

           

The rest of the walk home was spent in mostly silence; Sage, even though she knew her mother was already near the end of her patience, wriggled out of the woman’s hold and kept darting here and there, splashing in puddles leftover from that morning’s rain shower and practicing her bending by moving the air around or sending licks of fire into the sky. And although Adva remained as stoic and blank-faced as ever, she watched Sage closely as she laughed and goofed off. Sage tried twice to get the girl to join her in her playtime, but curly haired brunette would only stare at the redhead, leaving the girl to shrug and continue playing on her own. Gratia told her daughter to take it easy several times before giving up altogether, electing to let the rambunctious Spiritbender work off her energy rather than have her bouncing all around the house once they got home.

           

Sage swiftly became lost in her play, imagining that she was a brave and valiant soldier fighting alongside her father, facing every and all enemies who dared to test their might. They would prove just how strong they were. She would make sure she was stronger than they were.


	2. The Beginning of the End

The Beginning of the End

Nine Years Later

 

The sun sat high against a bright blue sky, not a single cloud in sight. Its rays blasted the dusty ground, making waves of heat rise up amid numerous houses and shops. Several of the townspeople were out and about, keeping busy even despite the severe warmth of the day. At the center of the rough, spread out settlement was the largest building of them all; the council chambers. Inside the stone structure all was quiet, surprising considering the group that was gathered in the central room.

           

Five men mingled around the benches that lined either side of the oval chamber, dressed in similar green and brown robes and trousers. They were looking around at the bare furnishing or else checking their pocket watches with an impatient air. A woman stood at the podium that sat on the raised dais near the front of the room, her pitch-black hair pulled back into a harsh bun and her clothes of a more elegant style than her companions. Her eyes were locked on the double doors directly across from her, and she alone remained still and unmoving, her patience admirable. They had been waiting in this room since sunup, alerted by a message sent to them from their spy that had been keeping tabs on the kingdom to the east. It was brief, only stating that a major upset had occurred.

           

Just then, the squeaking of hinges broke the silence. Six pairs of eyes turned to the culprit, a young woman who had just entered the room through a side door. She swallowed nervously, trying to push the door close as quietly as she could, but with no success. The insistent squeaking rang through the still air until, finally, the door clicked shut.

           

“What is it, Valli?” the woman asked, turning her gaze back to the double doors.

           

“It’s…uh, it’s two hours past lunchtime?” Valli replied uncertainly, fiddling with the sleeves of her drab tunic. “I wasn’t sure if, um…if you’d want anything to eat.”

           

“Not now,” the older woman said, not bothering to glance back at the younger.

           

“…Oh. But…you didn’t eat anything at breakfast either-”

           

“Not. Now.” The woman finally turned her gaze back to Valli, her dark eyes so similar to the young woman’s flashing with warning. Valli swallowed thickly and gave a quick nod, immediately retreating from the room and making the silence ring with the squeaking hinges of the door opening and closing once again.

           

One of the men shook his head, smirking at his companions. “For being the daughter of the matriarch, she certainly is a timid little thing,” he remarked to them quietly.

           

“Indeed. Makes one wonder…” another added, stroking his auburn beard thoughtfully. A third man nudged the pair harshly, clearing his throat pointedly and glancing up at the podium. The first two turned to see their matriarch glaring down at them with a raised eyebrow, as if daring them to say another word against her child.

           

“Makes one wonder what exactly, Crane?” the woman asked, a biting chill resonating through her words.

           

Crane hastily bowed his head in apology. “I only meant that Valli still has some ways to go before she can adequately lead our people,” he explained. “You must admit, madam, that she is rather…fragile when it comes to matters of war. Among other things.”

           

The woman continued to stare at the men for lengthening moments before scoffing and turning her sights back to the double doors. Crane exchanged unsure glances with his comrades, but they wisely said nothing else.

           

A few more silent minutes passed. Then, at long last, the group heard the sound of someone running full out down the stone hallway outside the oval chamber. Their footsteps became louder, and along with the noise came the clear gasps of someone who had been running nearly nonstop from wherever they had come from. The double doors soon burst open, revealing a rotund man with a bright red face, pale, balding hair, and sweat staining his travel-worn clothes. He heaved a breath and trotted down the aisle between the benches, finally coming to a stop before the podium.

           

“Well, well, Grayson,” the woman mused, staring down her nose at the gasping man. “This news had better be good.”

           

“It…it i-is…Cindra…m-madam…” Grayson somehow managed to gasp, doubled over in an effort to catch his breath.

           

The woman, Cindra, waited, tapping her finger against the polished wood of the podium impatiently as Grayson caught his breath. At long last, he straightened back up, having finally steadied his breathing though his face remained red and shiny.

           

“It’s the Spiritbenders, madam!” Grayson began, smiling widely. “Their numbers have dropped dramatically within just a few short months! So much so that the Kingdom of Spirits is finally vulnerable to our forces!”

           

“How many remain?” Cindra demanded, refusing to allow her hopes to rise. Grayson’s loyalty was without question, but there had been times in the past where his so-called good news had been nothing more than a fluke on the part of his informant. More than once Cindra had nearly ordered the double agent to be taken out if only to rid herself of the bumbling fool.

           

“O-Oh! Well, let’s see…” Grayson riffled through his pockets until he found what he was looking for; a folded bit paper that had clearly seen better days. He smoothed it out, consulting his convoluted scribbling. “Ah, yes, by my calculations there are sixty-seven Spiritbenders left in their army division, and eleven that are too young to have joined the military forces. And it seems that fewer babies are being blessed by the spirits; the other kingdoms have not sent any younglings to King Egon in nearly two years!”

           

A shudder ran through the group, the men looking at one another in amazement while Cindra kept her eyes locked on Grayson, the man shuffling nervously under her steely gaze.

           

“So…what you’re telling us,” one of the men said, a wicked smile growing on his face, “is that our army outnumbers King Egon’s for the first time in history?”

           

“Well…truth be told we’re about even,” Grayson remarked, checking his notes once more. “Since the Spiritbenders have begun disappearing tensions have started growing between the five kingdoms; th-the other four are r-refusing to send so many of their soldiers to aid the Kingdom of Spirits. A-And King Egon in turn is refusing to pull his remaining Spiritbenders from guarding his borders to help the other kingdoms.”

           

The men all grinned triumphantly at one another, clapping each other on the back as if they were personally responsible for the decline of the Spiritbenders. As for Cindra, her sharp mind was already whirring with the new possibilities before them. A smile began to grow on her face, stretching until she was softly chuckling, the sound capturing her comrades’ attention.

           

“Well now. Well, well, well.” Cindra stepped around the podium, moving to the lower level and laying a hand on Grayson’s shoulder. “This certainly does seem to be _very_ good news. Have you or our informant managed to find out why those _poor_ Spiritbenders disappeared?”

           

“I-I’m afraid not, madam,” Grayson replied, a little unnerved by her proximity. “Whoever, or whatever, was responsible for the disappearances seem to have disappeared themselves.”

           

“Pity,” Cindra sniffed, moving away from Grayson and stepping down the aisle. After a moment of hesitation, the men followed after her, hanging on to her every word. “They could have at least finished off those smug bastards for us. Oh well; I’ll take what we can get.”

           

“What’s the next move, then, madam?” Crane asked, falling in step beside the matriarch.

           

“First, we will inform the rest of our people,” Cindra replied, pulling open the double doors and continuing to walk along the corridor outside. Here, the group’s footsteps echoed loudly in the stone tube, the shadows a blessing against the stark heat that awaited them outside. “They deserve some joy after all we have suffered over the years. And then…” Cindra’s smile became menacing, her companions exchanging their own grins as they knew she was going to take full advantage of this turn of events and strike the Kingdom of Spirits as soon as possible. “Then, we will make that arrogant king and the rest of his pathetic followers remember what they did to our ancestors.”

           

The group finally stepped out into the harsh sunlight, the few people walking along the dusty street outside taking a moment to smile and wave to them before continuing on their way. Cindra acknowledged them with a nod of her head, her mind still spinning with plans.

           

“Crane, Lorne, go and gather as many of our townspeople as you can. Direct them to the square,” Cindra instructed two of the men. The pair nodded and took off down the street, disappearing around a corner.

           

“Radovan, take everyone else and check on the progress of the tanks,” the matriarch addressed the remaining men. “Get an estimate on the completion date. If it’s any later than three months from now, tell them to speed up their progress. They may take on volunteers to assist if they must. Go.”

           

Another series of nods and the group broke away, taking off down the opposite end of the street. That left Cindra and Grayson, the matriarch gesturing for the portly man to follow as she headed toward the central square. It was nothing more than a pitiful patch of dried grass that jutted up amidst the sandy terrain, but they made do. Cindra actually admired the location. The grass strongly reminded her of her people; against all odds, the vegetation managed to endure beneath an unforgiving sun and surrounded by lifeless dirt. Just as their ancestors have done for many, many years.

           

“Um…if I may ask a question, m-madam?” Grayson piped up nervously. Cindra merely looked over at him with an eyebrow raised, making the man clear his throat unnecessarily. “What is the endgame here?”

           

“What could you possibly mean in asking that?” Cindra snapped, stopping in her tracks and turning more fully toward the man.

           

“I-I-I only m-meant th-that o-our people have o-only ever kn-known war a-a-and s-s-suffering,” Grayson stammered, his eyes glued to the ground between them. “Now th-that the Spiritbenders a-are in a decline, a-and the f-five kingdoms are v-vulnerable, this newf-found h-hope might be overwhelming t-to many-”

           

“Overwhelming to _you_ , do you mean?” Cindra cut over him. Grayson fell silent. “You would have us remain in this spirit-forsaken desert simply because you cannot _handle_ overthrowing those self-proclaimed gods?” She scoffed. “Do not even dare to think about faltering now, Grayson. I will not have any weakness tainting our people. We have not lived all these years simply to throw in the towel and call it quits. I intend to drive those kings and queens to their knees and make them watch as I burn down every single inch of their lands. Then, and only then, will I be merciful and end their miserable lives. And as for those Spiritbenders,” at this Cindra grinned humorlessly and let out a cold chuckle, resuming her walking, leaving Grayson no choice but to follow meekly behind, “I will see to it that they all suffer in the most heinous way possible. Even _that_ will be too good a fate for them…”

           

Grayson said nothing more as they arrived at the central square. He positioned himself behind Cindra as she stood atop the wooden platform that sat at one end of the square, waiting patiently for the townspeople to assemble. As the minutes stretched on, they began to slowly filter into the open space, talking excitedly with one another and eager to hear what good news their matriarch had to share. Only once Crane and the others joined her on the platform did Cindra step forward, waving a hand to call her audience to attention.

           

“Thank you all for attending this impromptu meeting,” she began, smiling benevolently as the crowd immediately quieted, looking on with rapt attention. “On this day, we will all remember this as the beginning of the end to our suffering.”

           

The crowd murmured amongst themselves, their excitement rising at those words. Cindra waved her hand once more, easily silencing her people.

           

“News reached us today, shortly after noon, regarding the situation with the kingdom to the east. It is my greatest pleasure to announce the downfall of the Spiritbenders; their numbers have dropped dramatically, all thanks to an unidentified hero. And although they could not finish off those arrogant benders, they have left the Kingdom of Spirits vulnerable to our might. For the first time in our history, our armies have a fighting chance against King Egon and his forces!”

           

A stillness rippled through the gathering before wide grins broke out, raucous applause and hopeful cheers ringing out through the air. Cindra smiled.

           

“Yes, this is indeed a joyful day for us all,” she continued. “But now more than ever we must band together and hold strong. We cannot falter in our mission. We cannot stand to let even a single opportunity pass us by. The five kingdoms have spent centuries upon centuries sitting behind their wall of Spiritbenders, content to let us wither away in this damned desert! Content to forget the treachery their ancestors wrought upon our own!

           

“No longer. No longer will we be forgotten. No longer will we wallow and struggle to survive while _they_ grow fatter and more complacent with their ill-gotten gains. We will finally rise up and strike at the heart of the betrayers! We will rip those so-called gods down from their pedestals and make them remember who we are! We will not stop until every last traitor has been eradicated from this earth and we have reclaimed our rightful lands!”

           

Bolstered by their matriarch’s confidence, the crowd all roared their approval, thunderous clapping rising high into the sky. Cindra allowed her people to have their moment, feeling their hope swelling more than it had ever done before. After a few minutes, she raised her hand again and her people quickly silenced themselves.

           

“We will be needing as many able-bodied volunteers to aid our army,” Cindra said. “In approximately three months’ time we will march forth and attack the Kingdom of Spirits with everything we have! And when this eternal war comes to an end, we. Will. Be _. Free_!”

           

More hopeful cheers rumbled through the earth. Cindra turned to Crane, gesturing for him to step forward. “Any who wish to put themselves on the front lines, speak with my companion here. As for everyone else, prepare yourselves for the harrowing glory we will soon claim!”

           

Cindra then stepped down from the platform, allowing her people to rush forward as they eagerly volunteered themselves for battle. The woman felt her chest swelling with pride as she saw the amount; nearly every single person from the crowd had come forward, making Crane work hard in an effort to categorize each individual into various portions of their army. Cindra chuckled, turning on her heel and walking away from the central square.

           

She walked along the dusty streets of their settlement, eyeing the rundown buildings with a mixture of pride and anger. Pride that her people had managed to build something from nothing, and anger at the fact that they had had to suffer so much just to get by. Cindra straightened her spine, lengthening her strides and heading toward the edge of their settlement. From there the ground dipped downward before stretching out into a vast expanse of sand that shone brightly beneath the sun. And in the distance, so far away that it could be confused as a trick of the light, was the smudge of green that marked the beginning of the King Egon’s territory.

           

Cindra stood at the peak of the hill, the shabby town several paces behind her, but even from that distance she could still hear the cheerful calls of her people, the sounds scattering a few horned foxes had ventured too close to the settlement. She smirked, her eyes narrowed as she contemplated upon the distant kingdom to the east.

           

“Mother?”

           

Cindra half turned, watching as her daughter stepped forward timidly, holding a small plate that contained two slices of bread and a rind of cheese. The older woman smiled lightly, turning more fully.

           

“You still have much to learn,” Cindra remarked, causing Valli to stop in her tracks.

           

“What?” the younger woman asked, blinking in confusion.

           

“There are times when food will be scarce. During such trials, it is imperative that you as the leader sacrifice your share for the good of the people.”

           

“But…I-I’m not the leader-”

           

“Someday you will be, Valli,” Cindra cut over her impatiently. “And when that time comes you will need a stronger steel in your spine if you are ever going to lead our people to glory.”

           

Valli blinked again, looking down at the plate as her cheeks flushed with shame. Cindra sighed, approaching her daughter and taking a slice of bread. She idly chewed the tough grains, waiting. After a few moments, Valli tentatively raised her head to look at her mother.

           

“You are too soft, my darling,” Cindra said softly, touching the nineteen-year-old’s cheek affectionately. “And this is not a world where you want to be soft.”

           

“I know, mother,” Valli replied in an undertone, fingering the edge of the other slice of bread before bringing it to her mouth, chewing gently. “I really am trying…”

           

“I know,” Cindra echoed, finishing off her slice of bread and brushing her hands together. “And you must keep trying. You do not want to end up like your uncle, do you?”

           

At that Valli looked up at her mother, adamantly shaking her head and making the stray dark brown strands from her braid fly about. Cindra chuckled, laying a hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

           

“Exactly. Your uncle was soft, too. And look where that got him; driven mad by the very people he idolized, failing to see their true natures.” Cindra sighed, turning away from Valli and looking back out over the horizon. “You should head back to the square, darling. Be among your people. Share in their joy. It’ll do you good.”

           

Valli didn’t say anything, but after a few moment’s the older woman heard her light footsteps move away. Cindra turned, seeing that her daughter had left the plate behind, still holding the rind of cheese. She smiled fondly; her daughter really was a soft one. But that would change. It had to.

           

Cindra faced the horizon once more, crossing her arms as she glared out at the distant kingdom that had been the cause of her people’s suffering for far too long.

           

“I hope your armies are ready, King Egon,” she murmured into the still air, smirking darkly. “I know I am.”


	3. Home

Home

 

**Capital City – Two Miles**

           

Sage stared at the neatly painted sign that sat on one side of the dirt road, feeling an odd lump in her throat. She clutched the strap of her pack more tightly, unable to move any farther. It had seemed to take forever just to get to this point, Hei Bai having dropped her off through a portal in a completely unfamiliar part of her home world. It was only thanks to her years of navigating a foreign land that Sage was even able to come this far.

           

The young Spiritbender sighed, running a hand over her vibrant red hair. It had been three days since she had made the journey through the Spirit World. Three very long days of traveling, camping, and just getting used to the sounds and creatures that existed in the Mirror World. But now, those three days seemed far too short. She wasn’t entirely sure where her hesitation was stemming from; perhaps it was because it had been nine years since she had set foot on this land. Perhaps she was merely missing her friends back in the other world.

           

Sage let her hand drop, chuckling at herself. How long had she missed her friends in _this_ world? How long had she been wanting to see them again? And now that she was back, all she could do was miss the ones from the Avatar’s world.

           

 _Get it together, Sage,_ she chastised herself mentally. The Spiritbender squared her shoulders and set off back down the road, determined not to let her fears overwhelm her. It had been nearly a decade, it was only natural to have some misgivings. And it wasn’t as if she was here for a friendly visit. She had a mission to complete. And, with any luck, King Egon would be able to help her with that.

           

Sage frowned, thinking back to what her mother had told her about this world. About how the Outlanders had finally managed to attack her people head on thanks to Goran’s interference. If he hadn’t killed off so many Spiritbenders and stolen their power for himself, the five kingdoms wouldn’t be in such dire straits. Or at least, that’s what her mother had alluded to. In all honestly, Sage was just hoping that things were not as bad as they may have seemed to the older woman. Of course, there was only one way to find out for sure.

           

The journey to Capital City passed by in a blur of time, the soft rolling hills of green, the tall, swaying trees that dotted the landscape, and the sound of a river a short distance away her only company as she walked, with the occasional sighting of some koala sheep and zebra squirrels. Despite her internal worries, Sage couldn’t help but smile at the nature that surrounded her.

 

But all too soon, Sage was within mere yards of the grand gates to the capital, the stone walls surrounding the city soaring high into the sky and protecting it against any foreign threats. Standing guard before the entrance were two burly men with sharp eyes and equally sharp weapons at their sides, their armor and uniforms glinting with the bright gold and silver colors of their kingdom. Sage took in a steadying breath, approaching the men as pacifyingly as possible.

           

Judging from their reactions; swiftly withdrawing their weapons and glaring daggers at her, one would have thought she had run straight at the men wielding a massive sword and screaming a war cry.

           

“Do _not_ come any closer!” one of the men barked.

           

Sage immediately lifted her hands up to show she meant no harm, stopping herself a few feet from the gates. “I’m just here to see the king-”

           

“No one is allowed in or out of the capital without the king's permission!” the other man stated in a growl.

           

“But…” Sage blinked, unsure of how to convince these overzealous men that she was not a threat. She eyed the massive wall, wondering if she could simply use her Airbending to vault over and get in that way when one of the guards snapped at her again.

           

“Wait a minute…is that a spirit crystal? Are you a Spiritbender?!” he demanded harshly.

           

“Yeah, I am,” Sage replied with a frown. “That’s kinda what I need to talk to the king about-”

           

“All Spiritbenders were summoned to the capital months ago! Where have you been?!” the other guard yelled.

           

“What are you talking about?” Sage demanded in confusion. But instead of answering her the two men merely glanced at one another before one of them turned and signaled through a porthole in the wall behind him. At that moment, she heard the clanking of chains as the gates were pushed open. The other guard marched over to her, grabbing her arm and steering her unceremoniously through the entrance.

           

“Head straight down the main road, and then take a left turn before you enter the castle grounds,” the man instructed impatiently, waving her off. “You’ll be briefed once you get to the barracks.”

           

“Wait, what do you mean by barracks?!” Sage tried to asked but the gates were already being pulled shut, coming together with a bang. “What the hell is going on?” she continued to murmur to herself, looking out toward the thick of the city. There were throngs of people moving about, chatting amongst themselves and radiating contentment. Sage frowned deeply, stepping forward cautiously as she entered the crowds, unsure of what to think.

           

No one gave her more than a passing glance, too occupied by their own tasks to be bothered by the newcomer. Sage watched each person warily, her confusion mounting. Everyone was so… _happy_. As if there was no war between them and the Outlanders, no violent battles taking place mere miles from their homes. As she walked along the wide cobblestone street, Sage allowed a small flame of hope to flicker within her soul. If everyone was so content, then perhaps things were not so bad as her mother had thought. Several children ran past her, laughing happily as they kicked a ball between them. The smell of frying food wafted toward her on a breeze, making her stomach grumble longingly. There was not an ounce of tension or fear in anyone’s face. Hell, Sage even spotted a young couple tucked away in a shadowy corner as they embraced. Nothing in this city hinted at troubles beyond the borders.

           

But then, after fifteen minutes of slowly making her way through the crowds, following the road the guard had instructed her to, Sage suddenly found herself at the threshold of the barracks. They were set several yards away from the main road, out of sight from the public eye, lurking in the shadows and surrounded by high walls as if they were not meant to be there in the first place. She stalled, staring up at wooden façades. Here was the first place she had come across in this city where any sort of tension could be felt. The buildings practically oozed with grim fear. Sage glanced back the way she had come, taking in the sight of the serene people once more before heaving a sigh and approaching the first building, entering the dim interior.

           

She stood just inside the door, taking in the sparse furnishing. The room was large; in the center was a long table strewn with all sorts of papers and maps, several small knives stabbed decisively into certain areas. A few chairs were scattered about the table, all carelessly pushed aside as if the occupants had gotten up in a hurry. More maps hung up on the walls, and Sage recognized various areas of not only her kingdom, but the other kingdoms as well. There was a narrow hallway directly across from the front entrance lined with more doors. And not a soul was in sight.

           

Sage shuffled a little farther in, looking around in confusion. Just as she was about to wander down the hallway, a door against the far wall to her left opened and closed, revealing an older man who seemed weighed down by years of weariness, the heavy gold and silver armor that he wore seeming to only magnify his exhaustion. He heaved a sigh, running a hand over his scruffy face before turning his sights to the newcomer. Both merely stared at one another for several long seconds until a hesitant smile made its way onto the man’s face.

           

“…Sage?” he asked in disbelief.

           

“Arlo,” Sage gasped, hesitating for only a brief moment before running over to the man and hugging him tightly. “Spirits, it’s been so long!”

           

“Too long,” Arlo agreed, pulling back to get a better look at the young Spiritbender. “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown! I can’t believe you’re even here…” His plum eyes then spotted her father’s spirit crystal, his expression turning somber. “So, you did find him.”

           

“Yeah. I was too late, though…” Sage muttered, touching the crystal gently.

           

“And…your mother-”

           

“She’s fine,” she assured him. “I was able to get back in contact with her. She’s doing fine.”

           

“That’s good to hear,” Arlo smiled. “First you disappeared, and then Gratia. It was hard not to think the worst. Especially with the…current circumstances.”

           

“What do you mean?”

           

Arlo shook his head, gesturing for Sage to take a seat at the table as he did the same across from her. “Things are not going so well for us Spiritbenders, Sage,” he began. “To begin with, our numbers have dropped significantly, and the other kingdoms have not sent any initiates in nearly two years. Then, only a few short months ago, the Outlanders unleashed their first attack. A devastating blow to one of the outer towns, decimating the entire territory in one fell swoop before claiming it for themselves. We were able to evacuate most of the people but…not everyone made it out alive. Even some of our own were killed.”

           

Sage blinked in shock, straightening up in her seat. “…And since then?” she asked hesitantly.

           

“Since then the Outlanders have been pummeling our defenses,” Arlo said bitterly. “With so few Spiritbenders it has been difficult to hold strong, but we’ve managed so far. The king is relentless, demanding our constant vigilance.”

           

“Wait, so how many of us are there?” Sage held her breath, preparing to hear the worst.

           

“Sixty-two battle-ready Spiritbenders are all that are left. Then we have eleven who are still too young to be put on the front lines.”

           

“… _No_ …” The numbers staggered her. She thought back to her childhood, when there had been throngs of Spiritbenders throughout all five kingdoms. Every year the other kings and queens would send more initiates, more Spiritbenders to join the cause, to have them learn and grow as they were meant to. But now…now it truly did seem like her people were on the verge of extinction.

           

“I know this is difficult to hear,” Arlo said. “But once the young ones start turning fifteen we’ll have more soldiers-”

           

“Wait, what do you mean?” Sage interrupted, staring at Arlo. “Fifteen? The initiate age is eighteen, and then when a Spiritbender turns twenty they can go into the army-”

           

“Not anymore,” the older man shook his head sadly. “Last month the king made a decree that all Spiritbenders who were fifteen years or older were to be drafted into the army immediately.”

           

“That’s insane!” she exclaimed. “They’re still just kids at that age!”

           

“It is the king’s will,” Arlo said, his expression becoming stony. “And through his will we must obey.”

           

Sage opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to recoup her scattered thoughts. Things were much, _much_ worse than she had anticipated.

           

At that moment, the far door opened again to reveal a young man stepping into the room, shaking his head in distress.

           

“Dad, Dacre’s threatening to throw the entire squad on the frontlines again if they don’t shape up soon-” he began, looking up only to stop in his tracks when he saw Sage. His green eyes widened in shock. “Sage?!”

           

“Hey, Oren,” Sage greeted halfheartedly, still reeling from the news Arlo had given her.

           

“What-? How-? When-?” Oren sputtered, looking from Sage to his father helplessly.

           

“I’m not too clear on the details myself,” Arlo remarked with a small smile. “I was just filling Sage in on what has been going on recently.”

           

Oren clenched his jaw, looking back toward Sage and eyeing the scars that lined her wrists and neck. “…Where the hell have you been? What happened to you?”

           

“It’s a…long story,” she said hesitantly. “And you guys probably won’t believe me.”

           

“To all intents and purposes, the spirits have abandoned us and our king is on a dangerous path to insanity,” Arlo remarked dryly. “Fifteen years ago, I wouldn’t have believed any of _that_. Try us.”

           

Sage looked from Arlo to Oren, then back again. Both men were only exuding curiosity, but she knew that once she launched into her tale their curiosity would most likely turn into skepticism. _We can believe in spirits, but to believe that there’s another world beyond the spirit realm? Impossible…_ Sage mused to herself with dark humor. She drew in a breath, readying herself for their inevitable questions as she began to fill them in on what had happened to her nine years ago.

           

By the time she had finished recounting her various adventures in the Avatar’s World, the light outside the barracks had been reduced to a soft glow, the sun preparing for its decent beyond the horizon. Throughout her entire story, neither Arlo nor Oren had said one word, watching her with passive expressions. Even now that she had fallen silent, the two men still did not speak.

           

Uncomfortable, Sage shifted in her seat. “So…yeah. That’s…that’s basically it,” she muttered, casting her gaze to the maps on the table next to her.

           

“Well,” Arlo said, leaning back in his chair. “That’s quite a tale.”

           

“Every word of it is true,” Sage replied evenly, bristling slightly at the disbelieving tone in the older man’s voice.

           

“I’m not saying it’s not true,” he continued placidly. “Granted, the only reason I am inclined to believe you is the fact that it _has_ been nearly ten years since you disappeared. Had you been anywhere within the five kingdoms you would have been sent to the capital long ago.”

           

“I don’t know…” Oren piped up at that moment, eyeing Sage. “Disappearing into the Spirit World is one thing, but to actually come across a completely different world with these…single element benders? It just seems really farfetched.”

           

“Well, I don’t know how else to prove I’m telling the truth,” Sage huffed impatiently, rising to her feet. “But you’re not the ones I have to convince, anyway. I need to see King Egon.”

           

At that, both Arlo and Oren leapt to their feet, staring aghast at Sage as if she had just declared she was on her way to assassinate the monarch.

           

“You cannot be serious,” Arlo said grimly.

           

“Are you out of your mind?!” Oren yelled.

           

Sage paused, blinking in confusion while at the same times alarm bells began ringing in her head. “What’s going on?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “Why shouldn’t I speak with the king?”

           

Now the two men paused, glancing at one another briefly before Arlo let out a long sigh and stepped toward Sage. “King Egon…is not who he once was,” he began hesitantly, seeming unsure of how to proceed. “This war…the decline of the Spiritbenders…I’m afraid his mind has broken.”

           

“How do you mean?” Sage murmured, fearing what would become of her people if they were being led by an unstable ruler.

           

“I’ve already mentioned that he has begun recruiting fifteen-year-olds into the army,” Arlo remarked darkly. “But it goes beyond that. Not a day has gone by that he hasn’t demanded us Spiritbenders to be stationed on the front lines. We’ve been split into two groups; when one group is guarding our Western borders the other is here, training. When the first are too exhausted to continue defending the kingdom we switch, and they are stationed here to train while the second goes to the front lines. It is an endless cycle. A cycle that King Egon has demanded.”

           

“That’s…that’s insane!” Sage sputtered incredulously. “He’s going to wear down the kingdom’s best defense at that rate! We’re not his slaves to do with as he pleases!”

           

“And how would _you_ know anything about that?”

           

The three Spiritbenders turned, seeing another young man standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and his citrine eyes narrowed in disbelief.

           

“So, you finally decided to show your face again,” he continued, striding into the room with an air of repressed anger. Sage clenched her jaw but said nothing.

           

“Take it easy, Dacre,” Arlo commanded the younger man, stepping forward to halt his path. “Sage has her reasons for leaving. And for coming back.”

           

“Of course she does,” Dacre scoffed. “She was always full of excuses when we were kids. I’m not surprised she hasn’t changed.”

           

“So nice to see you, too,” Sage said evenly, steeling herself for whatever her old friend would throw her way. She wondered idly if she should even consider him a friend; even when they were younger, they often had trouble seeing eye to eye. Challenging one another made up the entire foundation of their relationship.

           

Dacre merely glared at her one more time before returning his attention to Arlo. “I was merely checking to see what was so much more interesting in here that you and your son felt the need to abandon your training.”

           

“A break is essential, Dacre, unless you want us all to burn out,” Arlo replied, his stern gaze locked with the younger man’s. “And I don’t think the king would appreciate that. Do you?”

           

“That’s not your place to decide, is it, old man?” Dacre smirked. “I’m the general here, not you.”

           

At that Sage couldn’t help but let out a loud snort, causing Dacre’s attention to snap back to her as he scowled deeply. “Something funny?” he demanded.

           

“You can’t be serious,” she shook her head in disbelief. “ _You’re_ the general? The king actually made _you_ leader of the Spiritbenders?!”

           

“You’re going to want to watch your tone around me, Sage,” Dacre stated, approaching her slowly. “Unless you want to be put in your place by force.”

           

“I’d love to see you try,” she challenged, stepping up to him until they were nearly nose to nose.

           

“That’s enough out of both of you!” Arlo snapped, pushing himself bodily between the teens while Oren merely shook his head at the pair and turned away toward the window. “This is not the time nor the place for this sort of confrontation. In any case, we all need to stick together, we’ve already lost so many Spiritbenders to the Outlanders, we do _not_ need to make things easier for them by fighting amongst ourselves!”

           

There was a tense silence as Sage and Dacre continued to glare at one another. Then, the young general scoffed.

           

“I have more important things to do than entertain a weak coward like you,” he muttered darkly. “I’ll expect you and your son to be back out in the training field within five minutes,” Dacre turned to Arlo, staring down the older man. “Do not be late.”

           

Before he could walk more than a few paces away from the trio, Oren suddenly gasped.

           

“Wait! Dad, Dacre, King Egon’s personal guards are heading this way! They must have heard about Sage!”

           

“The king doesn’t even know you’re here?!” Dacre demanded, whirling around on the redhead.

           

“I was on my way to talk to him!” Sage defended herself indignantly.

           

“Oh, of course! My mistake! And here I thought you were just sitting around telling tale tales and distracting my soldiers!”

           

“Dacre, control yourself!” Arlo snapped. “Sage, you need to get out of here.”

           

“ _What_?!” both Sage and Dacre exclaimed.

           

“You’re just going to let her go free?!” Dacre yelled.

           

“I’m _not_ going to run away and leave you guys here!” Sage protested.

           

“What the hell makes her so special?!” Dacre continued angrily. “Why should _she_ go free while the rest of us are stuck obeying that demented king?!”

           

“We don’t have any time for your arguments! Oren, take Sage into one of our back rooms,” Arlo instructed his son. “Dacre, if you have any respect left for your fellow Spiritbenders, you _will_ help us get Sage to safety.”

           

“You’re more arrogant than I realized if you really think I’m going to-”

           

“Dacre!” the older man cut over him, his eyes blazing. “We all know the fate that awaits her should she stay here. Do you really want to damn the last free Spiritbender?”

           

Dacre glared at Arlo, his jaw clenched. Sage could only stare at both men, her confusion mounting. Before she could ask any questions, though, Oren ushered her toward the hallway, leading her into one of the rooms a few doors down which turned out to be a storage area for various weapons.

           

“Wait, but I can help you guys!” she tried to insist before Oren left her alone.

           

“Look, you have to trust my dad,” he said, his expression both pleading and serious. “Just stay in here and don’t come out until we tell you the coast is clear.” With that he exited the room, closing the door behind himself.

           

Sage let out a long breath, inching toward the door and pressing her ear against the wood. She could just barely hear the entrance of several new people inside the barracks, but their voices were all muffled. Throwing caution to the wind, she eased the door open ever so slightly, just allowing the barest of cracks to appear. With that opening, she could better hear the conversation going on in the main room.

           

“Is there a reason you’re barging in here and disrupting our training?” she heard Dacre’s snide voice ask.

           

“Training? Really? I wasn’t aware the Spiritbender training regimen involved the congregation of three measly soldiers,” another voice remarked, this man’s tone deeper and with a certain bite that rivaled even Dacre’s.

           

“What the hell do you want, Elias?” Dacre demanded impatiently.

           

“Teenagers. So full of arrogance. This is why they shouldn’t be given such lofty titles,” yet another voice sneered, this one feminine.

           

“We are merely here on the king’s behest,” Elias explained. As he spoke, Sage could hear numerous footsteps roaming about the main room. “The guards at the gates sent word directly to His Majesty that a stray Spiritbender had appeared before them. And, curiously, she had absolutely no idea that the king had specifically called upon all Spiritbenders mere months ago.”

           

“She was told to report here,” a second man’s voice added. “And numerous witnesses say they saw a redheaded Spiritbender walking this way. So, where is she?”

           

“There are no new Spiritbenders here,” Arlo’s voice said, his tone even though heavy with command. “Perhaps your guards and witnesses were mistaken.”

           

“We were not asking you, soldier,” Elias said sharply. “We were speaking with your distinguished general.”

           

There was a tense silence, and Sage fought to keep her breathing under control as she waited to hear Dacre’s reply. She steeled herself, ready to start fighting in the likely event that her presence would be revealed.

           

“All of my soldiers are here and accounted for.”

           

Sage stilled in shock, amazed that Dacre was going along with Arlo’s plan.

           

There was a dark chuckle. “Need we remind you, General Dacre, that you Spiritbenders are bound to obey the king, and through him all of his most loyal subjects,” Elias remarked.

           

“Rest assured, Elias, the thought never leaves my mind,” Dacre spat in return.

           

“So, allow us to ask you again; where is the stray Spiritbender?”

           

“All of my soldiers are here and accounted for,” Dacre repeated.

           

“This is getting us nowhere!” a third man’s voice spoke up, his irritation evident. “Let us rip apart these barracks! The sooner we find her the sooner we can get the hell out of here!”

           

“Not yet, Jarl,” Elias replied evenly. “Perhaps General Dacre just needs the right…motivation.”

           

Sage had no idea what was about to happen, but there was a pit of dread in her stomach as she heard several footsteps move about the room, seemingly getting closer to Dacre. She shifted in her spot, her limbs coiling as she prepared to jump out of her hiding place and confront these so-called guards. However, as she took a step forward, her foot hit a loose floorboard, causing the old wood to emit a particularly loud squeak.

           

Everything fell silent in the main room.

           

“Care to explain what that was, general?” Elias asked, his tone entirely too pleasant for the tension radiating through the air.

           

“Why don’t you tell me? Weren’t you guys in charge of overseeing construction on these shitty buildings?” Dacre retorted. “We’ve told you numerous times the roofs leak whenever it rains.”

           

“Nero, Galene, go take a look through the back rooms. See if there’s a little rat lurking somewhere,” Elias instructed two of his fellow guards. Sage felt her adrenaline spike as she hastily took a few steps away from the door, her mind whirring with ways to counter their attacks and get herself and her fellow Spiritbenders out of this mess.

           

_Sage._

           

She nearly lept out of her skin at the sound of a voice echoing through her mind. Immediately, memories flooded through her veins from her time as Goran’s captor, but before she could react, they were speaking again.

           

_Behind the shelf opposite you there is a narrow trap door hidden in the floor. Get down there, quickly!_

           

It was Arlo’s voice. Despite her immense confusion and her desire to stay where she was and confront the guards, Sage grudgingly did as she was told, darting over to the shelf he had indicated and quickly squeezing herself behind it. After a brief scan of the floor, she spotted the very faint outline of a trap door. She quickly yanked it open, shimmying herself down the metallic ladder and closing the door above her.

           

Mere seconds after she had concealed herself, Sage heard the door to the small weapons room open and two sets of footsteps enter.

           

The voices above were faint, not loud enough to be able to discern what they were saying. Sage continued climbing down the ladder, going slow now that she was surrounded by pitch darkness. After a moment her foot bumped into a flat surface, and once she was standing on both feet Sage flicked her wrist, creating a bright flame dancing in her open palm.

           

Her eyes widened at the sight of the large, seemingly endless area she now found herself in. She took a few steps forward, taking care to not bump her head against the low, earthy ceiling and noting the various crates of emergency supplies, and even food. Every few feet there were also narrow beds that lined the walls on either side, some of the blankets rumpled as if they had been used recently.

           

“This just keeps getting stranger and stranger…” Sage muttered aloud to herself, her brows furrowed as she continued walking along the aisle between the beds and crates. She wagered she had gone at least several yards, and yet there seemed to be no end to the massive room.

           

Suddenly, there was a heavy thud from above, followed by several more, duller thuds. Before Sage had a moment to wonder what had happened, the trap door opened, letting down a bright shaft of light into the makeshift bunker.

           

“Sage? It’s safe to come out now,” Oren’s voice echoed down the ladder.

           

Sage clenched her fist, snuffing out the flame and walking back towards the trap door. _There’s something more going on around here,_ she mused to herself darkly. _And I can’t leave until I find out what that is._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that little taste of what this story will eventually become. As I mentioned before, I will be editing this author's note and potentially these three chapters once the story starts getting posted fully. And I really truly wholeheartedly hope that I will be doing so later this year.
> 
> Thanks again for all the support and patience!


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